


Lucid Dream

by PointingAtTheMoon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Eventual Smut, F/M, He's new rich, He's the President of a company, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Jon is very OOC, Mostly Jon POV, OOC characters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, R Plus L Does Not Equal J, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PointingAtTheMoon/pseuds/PointingAtTheMoon
Summary: Consumed by jealousy, Jon Snow leads his ex-lover and everyone in his life to believe that he's dating one of the biggest celebrities in Westeros.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was suffering writer's block while writing my wrestling fic (I'm not anymore and there will soon be an update), so I decided to write this story that I had in my head. I'm green at this writing thing so don't blister me if I make mistakes.
> 
> Just a heads up, there's some use of non-conventional English aka "black slang." I hope it doesn't sound like I'm appropriating black culture, and I hope you don't find it as cringe as find it when I hear certain people talking this way. Jon's personality and upbringing in this story is slightly based on my own, and this isn't slang that I picked up from the internet like most people do, I was talking this way before I ever even used the internet. I'm Mexican but most of my friends growing up were black and some of the culture rubbed off on me. I've never encountered anyone who has a problem with me talking this way, but people choose what they find offensive, so... The world has become very sensitive so I felt like I had to say this.
> 
> Enjoy!

The doors to the elevator opened and I strolled into the platform without a care in the world. I did, in fact, have things to worry about in my life, now more than ever before, but for some reason I woke up really euphoric on this day. I was in that state where you feel like you know everything in the universe, like you see the strings that hold it all together.

I had just pressed the button that commands the elevator to take you to the top floor when a young UPS delivery man holding a package emerged and joined me inside.  
  
"Which floor you going to, my man?" I asked.  
  
"The highest floor please," he replied, looking at me with disinterest.  
  
"That's where I'm going too. It's a long ride up."  
  
The doors closed and the elevator began the journey to their destination.  
  
"So who's the package for?" I asked, curious.  
  
"I am not allowed to say, sir. There's a privacy policy which dictates that a UPS employee must not give or sell information about a customer to any third party not affiliated with the transaction," he answered very mechanically and without even sparing me a glance.  
  
"Huh... and what if the customer is one of my employees, does that make me affiliated?"  
  
Now he looked at me. "I'm sorry, sir?"  
  
I smiled. "I'm Jon Snow, president of Golden Lion Food Group."  
  
His brows knitted together in confusion. "President? I believe Mr. Lannister is the president, sir."  
  
"Yes, yes he was. He was the man, he was the head honcho, the fat cat, the big cheese. He was in the driver's seat... and then he crashed the car. Literally. Tywin died in a car wreck last month."  
  
The man's eyes grew a bit. "He-he died?  
  
"Yup, he crashed into an embankment. Died instantly."  
  
He was speechless for a moment. "How tragic. I can't believe I didn't hear about it."  
  
The news appeared to have a real effect on this man who seemed robotic just a second ago. I wondered why. "Well, Tywin got into a bit of trouble with the law before the accident and his family wanted to keep his death, you know, on the down-low. They made sure it was barely mentioned in the papers or on tv."  
  
"His wife, is she dead too?"  
  
"No, no, she's fine, she wasn't with him when it happened, thank God. She and I are now 50/50 shareholders of the company."  
  
"I'd ask you to give her my condolences, but an expression of sympathy from a man so below her status like myself would mean nothing to her, and shouldn't."  
  
"Uh, okay." Who is this guy? "What's your name?"  
  
"Hakeem. Hakeem Torgo Nudho, sir."  
  
"Hakeem, that's a cool name. Hey like the greatest center of all time."  
  
He looked at me bewildered. "Center?"  
  
"You know, basketball. He played for the Rockets? Won back to back chips? They called him the... never mind. Anyway, did you know Tywin? Do you deliver here a lot or something?"  
  
"Not recently, but I have in the previous four or so years. I never had real interaction with Mr. Lannister, of course, but from what I heard and read, I could estimate that he was a highly intelligent individual, worthy of admiration. If you are his successor, you must be an equally cunning man."

A cocky smile broke around my face. "Well..."  
  
I cut myself off when suddenly the music playing in the elevator changed from a smooth r&b tune to something more lively. To something I knew. To hot shit.

♪ _Mmmmm I'm going down down baby, yo street in a range rover_ ♪

It was a try not sing challenge that I was not gonna win.  
  
"Boom boom baby," I began to sing along, enthusiastically. "Ready to let it go. Shimmy shimmy cocoa what, listen to me now. Light it up and take a puff, pass it to me now."  
  
I glanced at Hakeem and he had that "Wtf is this guy snorting" face. "It's Nelly! This joint is classic," I tried to explain.

"Forget the fame and the glamor, give me D's with a rubber hammer. My grammar be's ebonics, gin, tonic, and chronic."  
  
I kept singing along until we finally arrived on the top floor. "Why don't I deliver this for you," I suggested, pointing to the package.  
  
Hakeem handed me the box. "Just sign right here." He was clearly uncomfortable and welcomed a quick exit.

After signing where I was told to and stepping out of the elevator with the package, I read the name on the tag.

 **Jeyne Poole**  
  
_Is Jeyne shipping personal packages to work? This called for an investigation._  
  
I made my way through the open office and exchanged greetings with some of the personnel that keep the wheels of my company spinning. I always wondered what exactly these people did when I saw them in movies and TV, and to be honest, I'm still trying to figure it out...  
  
_Yikes._  
  
I went to the long desk I normally see Jeyne sitting at but she was not there. "Y'all know where Jeyne's at?" I asked no one in particular.  
  
"I think she went to the restroom, sir," one of his employees answered.  
  
I set the package down on the desk and decided to wait.  
  
_The president wanted answers._  
  
I went back to humming "Country Grammar" when one of the workers from another long desk called for me, "Excuse me, Mr. Snow?"  
  
I walked over to him. "Yeah, what's up, man?"  
  
"I just wanted to know what you thought of the report I handed in yesterday?"  
  
"Huh? Oh yeah, uh it was... it was great, good job, Richards."  
  
"Clarke. Clarke, sir."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, both of you, great job."  
  
"Oh my God, they're finally here!" A voice cried out gleefully behind me.  
  
I shifted my head and saw that Jeyne had returned from the bathroom and had already opened the package. I sauntered over to her. "Good morning, Ms. Poole."  
  
"Hey," she replied without looking up.  
  
I cleared my throat.  
  
Nothing.  
  
I cleared my throat again, more emphatically this time.  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"Jeyne!" I shouted.  
  
She almost jumped out of her pants. "Oh, uh... Hi, Mr. Snow. How-how can I help you?"  
  
"Well for starters you can tell me what this is..." I took the thin book that was in Jeyne's firm grasp. I looked it over. "A magazine?" I stuck my hand in the box and brought out more magazines. There were at least two dozen. All entertainment magazines.  
  
"Why are there so many magazines? I thought they only sent you these things like once a month or a week or whatever."  
  
"These aren't my subscriptions, sir. I mean I am subscribed to all of them now, but I wasn't when these came out so I had to buy them from someone online. Luckily there was one person who had all the ones I needed."  
  
"What's so special about these magazines?"  
  
"Um, well... they all feature Daenerys Targaryen."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Jeyne's mouth dropped, she blinked astonished. "Y-you you don't know who-who Daenerys Targaryen is?" She asked, holding up one of the magazines and pointing to a really attractive blonde woman on the cover.  
  
The question was asked too loudly for my comfort as I noticed that all the workers were now staring at me.  
  
I covered up my bewilderment with a laugh. "Haha, of course I... do I look like I've been living under the same rock George Bush has been? Of course I know who Daenerys Targaryen is. You didn't let me finish for god's sake. I was gonna ask who the dude next to her in this picture is?" I improvised, pointing to some guy in one of the magazines.

"Oh, this is probably just some guy she was rumored to be dating at the time. That rumor mill is always churning about her. There's a 10-foot distance rule. If your within ten feet of her and you have a di... a male reproductive system, then you're sleeping with her or trying to sleep with her, according to these mags."  
  
"Well, you have a right to overly obsess over anyone you want. Even if it is completely unhealthy. But can you explain to me why your personal packages are being delivered here, to my company? I don't remember consenting to this. Did Val?"  
  
Jeyne visibly gulped. "Um, no. I'm-i'm really sorry, sir. It's just that I don't trust leaving anything at my doorstep anymore. I had an incident last year where somebody stole something I ordered from Amazon. I live in a pretty quiet neighborhood but there are still some people that will do that kind of stuff. This doesn't cost the company anything, I swear. But if you think a punishment is necessary, I understand."  
  
I let out a sigh. "It's cool, Jeyne. But next time ask me or Val first, please."  
  
"I will. Thank you, sir."  
  
I walked away and made for the door that leads to my and Val's private offices.  
  
Only a second after I twisted the doorknob to enter, my ears were assaulted. "Thank God!" Sansa exclaimed. "Jon, where the hell have you been? I was so worried. We've been calling you, why didn't you answer your phone?"  
  
Sansa Stark: My Blue Flower of King's Landing. My external conscience. What she and I have is deeper than friendship. She's been by my side through the good and the bad. She's the one I know I can always count on.  
  
"I set it to silent before I left the house," I replied. "I don't want to get distracted by my phone while I'm behind the wheel. It's like driving sloshed. It's stupid and careless. I have to have a standard, Sansa, a standard that makes Edrick self-aware.”  
  
"You can just pull over when you hear the phone ring, you don't have to... never mind it doesn't matter anymore. Val is pissed that you're late."  
  
"Late?" I looked at the time on my watch. My gorgeous vintage Rolex Datejust. "It's only 9:42. She's mad because I came in twelve minutes later than I usually do?"  
  
"No. Oh my God, Jon, I can't believe you forgot."  
  
"Forgot what? Oh, wait, don't tell me it's daylight savings. Fuck, I hate that shit."  
  
"No, Jon, today you and Val...."  
  
_Speak of the devil._  
  
"Well, I'm glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence, Mr. Snow," Val said as she came out of her office.  
  
Val Wilder-Lannister: My unicorn. From childhood we've been trained to believe that unicorns are pink fluffy creatures that dance on rainbows. Thanks to Val I now know that they're nothing more than rhinos, just not as thicc. Once you lay so much as a digit upon a unicorn's hide, it will immediately impale you with the razor-sharp spike sticking out of its face.  
  
In my long list of mistakes, Val comes first.  
  
"Why are you guys trippin'?" I questioned. "I always show up at this time. A guy named Godric passes by the building every morning at the same time with his little churro stand and I can never resist the temptation. I love to lick the juices and the goodness off my fingers after chomping on those delicious churros. Sometimes I buy two and double fist. You search the parking lot you'll find churro juice somewhere."

"Unbelievable," Val sighed irritably. "I knew I should've sent you a text last night. Silly me I thought reminding you three times yesterday would be enough. Jon, we're supposed to interview people today for the administrative VP position. The meetings were scheduled to start over an hour ago."

 _Ah shit._  
  
In a span of three minutes I found myself in two situations where I had to force a laugh. "No, no, no, Val I wasn't... I wasn't late."  
  
_Think of an excuse, Jon. You can't let her make you look bad. Think, think, think!_  
  
I faked laughed some more and then went into a long forced coughing fit. "Sorry, since last night I've been sick as a dog--coughing, and hacking, and fleming and choking. But please no one start a thunderous round of applause to praise my dedication to this company. A golf clap will suffice."  
  
_What do I say, what do I say? C'mon think of something!!_  
  
"You have to grow up, Jon," Val said firmly, her lips prim with disapproval. "People's livelihood depend on you now. You need to be more responsible. It's ridiculous, really. I mean your best friend is one of the people interviewing for the job, how could you forget?"  
  
_Ding!_  
  
I cleared my throat. "Like I said, I didn't forget. I _was_ late, I _was_ late, but I was late on purpose."  
  
Val placed her hands on her hips. "Oooh, you were late on purpose?"  
  
"Yeah, see I thought it would be a good strategy, a good curveball to flush out the interviewees who are not seriously interested in this important position. I wanted to test their patience. Because you know patience is very important, Val. To be successful one needs patience when it comes to employee relations, business negotiations and communications, as well as the achievement of the strategic goals we've set."  
  
I may have forgotten about these interviews, but at least I remembered the little business lecture Gendry gave me the other day.  
  
"Well, I hope you practice what you preach, Jon, because you’re gonna need a lot of patience today. There are over two dozen people in the waiting room. We'll probably be conducting interviews well into the evening. I'll wait for you in my office to begin, try not to waste more time."  
  
Val went into her office and then I turned my attention to Sansa. "She's right, I'm gonna need to practice a lot of patience if she's gonna be in that mood all day."  
  
"Be serious today, Jon. I know you try to be on most days, but make your mouth cooperate," she replied, straight-faced.  
  
I looked at her mournfully with my puppy dog eyes.  
  
Her seriousness flickered and faded and she gave me a small smile. "Have a good day. Good luck."  
  
I winked at her and thanked her before walking towards my office that was straight across from Val's.  
  
"Good morning, sir," said Margaery, my secretary who sat in her desk right outside.  
  
"What up, Marg." I leaned down close to her ear. "Please don't tell me that you reminded me about these interviews before I left yesterday," I said in a small hushed breath.  
  
"Umm... yeah, let's just say that I did but you forgot anyway."  
  
"Aha, so now we know who really deserves the blame here."  
  
"Hey, don't use me as a scapegoat, I barely had time to do my everyday tasks yesterday. Maybe if I hadn't spent almost the whole day scavenging the internet, going through wormholes looking for those stupid games that you wanted, I would've reminded you... sir."  
  
_What did she say? Oh hell no._  
  
I blinked at her. "Stupid? W-w-why would you say something so-so blasphemous! Those games are not stupid, Ms. Tyrell. We're talking about the Gameboy Advance SP. We're talking about hands down the best Gameboy ever. We're talking about games that are timeless, masterpieces, games that cure depression. We're talking about something I desperately coveted when I was 12 years old. 12! If your bank account ever looks like a phone number, like mine, maybe you can buy an exotic mail order husband for that wedding you've coveted since you were a pre-teen."  
  
Margaery's brow knitted in question.

"Yeah, Sansa told me. Oh and if you don't get me Golden Sun and Wario Land 4, then you might just find yourself going through the wormhole of job search websites. Have a nice day." I immediately walked off, not waiting to see how she would react.

My indignation with Margaery somewhat cooled when I saw the presidential nameplate on the door of my office. The sight of it always filled me with a huge sense of pride.

_I beat him._

I blew out a breath and entered. I wasted no time and quickly went to my desk to leave my briefcase and seersucker suit jacket before gathering a few things I needed and going across the hall.

I arrived at Val's office with a folder, two water bottles, and a bowl of marshmallows. "Let's boogie," I said to her with a bright smile.  
  
I was half-way around Val's desk when I realized that there wasn't a chair for me. "You sure you want me to sit on your lap? Cuz after the dinner I had last night I think I'd be considered a chemical weapon by the UN and the Geneva Convention."  
  
Val wrinkled her nose and pressed a button on her multi-line phone system. "Sansa, can you bring a chair in, please."  
  
She then turned to me and gave me a long suspicious look. “What?” I questioned.

"Jon, do you by any chance know why there was a song about thongs playing in the elevator when I was coming up?"  
  
"Thongs?" What song is that one? I tried to remember.  
  
"Yeah, I think the guy singing it at one point said _'she was livin' la vida loca'_."  
  
I let out a breathy laugh. "Oh, yeah, yeah, your talking about the Thong Song by Sisqo. Yeah, that's a dope ass song. The guy might've looked like he had shaving cream on his head, but he made a classic with that one. You'll never come across anyone who can sing about underpants more soulfully. And those violins, my God, those violins will always give me life. I used to listen to that song nine days out of the week."  
  
Val gave me a barbed smile. "So you did have the elevator soundtrack changed..."  
  
"Yeah, I thought we needed to change our tune towards elevator music. You know why have music that's basically like waiting for the 'skip ad' button."  
  
She pursed her lips. "So you prefer music that's offensive, misogynistic, and degrading to women?"  
  
I smiled feebly. "You're the kind of person who asks to speak to the manager at McDonald's, aren't ya? Oh, wait, no, what am I saying, you'd never be caught dead inside of a McDonald's. Look, we don't need to rehash this again, I'll admit hip hop is the genre of music most blatant and unapologetic about its misogyny, but it's not every artist, and it doesn't mean you hate women just because you vibe to it. The soundtrack I put together has female artists who ain't just about looking sexy and talking nasty--Lauryn Hill, Missy Elliot, Mary J. Blige--music from the good times, you know back when Nicki and Cardi were still sperm. They're all jams that put you in a good mood.. and they're the clean versions."  
  
Sansa entered rolling a chair in. "Jon," Val released a breath. "How do you think our partners or any potential partners would react, please try to get this picture in your head, how do you think they would react if they heard that kind of music as they came up to conduct business? What sort of first impression do you think they would have of the company?"  
  
"Well if they're old they probably won't like it, most people don't like music they didn't grow up listening to. Those kind of people are close-minded. You tell me if you want to do business with people who aren't willing to consider different ideas or opinions."  
  
"Didn't you just a minute ago make a negative remark about some newer artists?"  
  
...  
  
"Oh, well that's different. Cuz see that-that music ain't music, it's just, you know, the sound of low IQ. It's brain damage with a beat over it. Seeing the "evolution" of hip hop is a nice documentary on tumor growth."  
  
"Jon..."  
  
"Sansa, what do you think? Do you like the new elevator music?"  
  
Sansa looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her eyes darted back and forth between me and Val. "Um... I... I don't... I have someone waiting on the line. Am I free to go?" She asked, placing the chair next to Val.  
  
Val sighed deeply. "You can go. Send in the first candidate who arrived for the interviews, please. Thank you."  
  
"That would be Gendry,” Sansa said before exiting.  
  
I settled into the chair next to Val with a big smile on my face. "That's my boy. He can't help but be punctual. He's beyond it. He's punctual like a dart in the bullseye. You'd swear he served in the army."  
  
"Try not to let your friendship with him affect our ultimate decision. I like Gendry but this is business. We need to hire the right person for the job."  
  
"Don't worry about Jon Snow, he's always fair. I'm more worried about you not being objective. Because you know it works both ways, I could be biased towards my friend but you could sleep on my friend because of the history between me and you. And that would be inexcusable. It would be unreasonable, unjust, unwarranted, unethical! I am categorically against not hiring the most qualified candidate, an existing relationship should not stand in the way of that. So make sure you don't overlook Gendry, cuz he's about to kill this interview."  
  
***  
  
"Let's say the company wants to do business in the Asian market, we want to import exotic condiments and have to analyze which country offers the best conditions. Indonesia presents steep prices but price-matching guarantees. Sri Lanka offers better prices but the country faces internal problems and its security and public order is disturbed. Which of the two would you choose?"

Gendry Waters: My Robin. My fellow caped crusader. My confidant. At the company he's my right-hand man... and my left-hand man. Shit, he's my right and left leg, right and left ear--he's basically an alien that pilots my body like in Men In Black. My inexperience and laziness make him work harder than a one-eyed cat covering three mouse holes. He's the real MVP because he allows _me_ to look like the MVP.

Now he has a chance to go from Robin to Nightwing.

Gendry made himself swallow. "Well, I would go with Sri Lanka because... Asia is a market known for offering a great variety of products at very economical prices and with an excellent quality. And those benefits are for us, for the company I mean, because..." He let out a nervous breath. "Well, one always has to think first of the economics. Especially in our current financial situation."  
  
"Yes, but what about the risks?" Val questioned.  
  
"The risks... well, in an international deal you protect your business with...contracts. You have breaches and clauses and penalties that are well specified on the contract."  
  
"Uh-huh, Gendry do you think a country engulfed by internal problems has the best conditions to do business? Because it's possible that the product gets lost and doesn't arrive and no one responds for it. Who guarantees you that they'll fulfill their contractual obligation despite there being a paper signed?"  
  
Gendry had no response.  
  
Val continued. "Don't you think you need to know if the government of the country your buying goods from offers some kind of judicial guarantee?"  
  
"Uh...well, yes, yes. But-but I mean you'd buy insurance which would you know protect yourself and the goods."  
  
"Exactly, exactly," I agreed.  
  
"Yes, and which would raise the price of the product," Val said.  
  
"Well, uh looking at it like that, I-I would choose to do business with-with... Malaysia."  
  
"The other one, the other one is better," I agreed again.  
  
"Malaysia? No, I didn't say Malaysia I said Indonesia," she corrected.  
  
"Ah, yes, sorry," Gendry laughed nervously. "Malaysia, Indonesia, I don't know what I was thinking. I meant Indonesia."  
  
_Damn... My boy got sonned._

_I'm gonna need to put him on suicide watch..._

***

"Stick a knife in me, I'm done. Can we please have a lunch break now? I need to replenish on marshmallows, I only have five left," I said, exhausted.  
  
"Well then you have enough to eat for one more interview," Val replied.  
  
"They're supposed to be for them. But I guess my marshmallows aren't good enough. They must prefer those fancy caramel marshmallows," I said rolling my eyes.  
  
"Or maybe they're allergic."  
  
My eyes narrowed in annoyance. "We agreed we were never gonna bring that up again."  
  
A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I didn't say anything. Look, let's just do one more interview and then we can go to lunch. I told you it was gonna be a long day. This is what happens when you're not on time."  
  
"I told you I was late on purpose."  
  
"Sure... and anyway I should be the one complaining here, I need to ice my back after having to carry you through these interviews."  
  
I stared at her incredulously, then smiled. "You stole that joke from me."  
  
Val's mouth twitched in amusement. "No, I didn't."  
  
"Yes, you did. I said it at the charity tennis tournament a few months ago. Which turned out to be charity for Tywin Lannister's bank account, by the way."  
  
"Oh yeah, so you came up with the joke?"  
  
"Whatever. Listen, I've been asking these people just as many questions as you have."  
  
"You've just been repeating the questions you heard me ask the other candidates. And you're not even saying them right," Val said braying laughter.  
  
"It's a strategy. That's what they do in job interviews, they ask questions that don't make any damn sense. They do it deliberately to see if you'll allow yourself to be confused. They did it to me when I first arrived in King's Landing and tried to prostitute myself."  
  
Val chuckled. "You were confused because they spoke to you in Valyrian, which you claimed in your resume to have spoken fluently. You told me the story that time we went to dinner at Saison."  
  
"I _can_ speak Valyrian, I just... you know, speak a different dialect. But seriously I'm starving, why don't we just order pizza and eat while we do this. It would save time."  
  
Val burst out into fits of laughter. "You want us... you want us to eat pizza while we're interviewing for a vice president? I can't with you, Jon... you know you'd be ten times more attractive without a tongue."  
  
I snorted. "You didn't feel that way about my tongue after that dinner."  
  
Val's pale face turned a burning pink. She cleared her throat and looked uncomfortable. "Sansa, send in the next one, please," she connected through the phone, trying to quickly end the conversation.  
  
The air turned quiet and we held each other's gaze for a moment before I broke the silence. "What if it's really expensive pizza? We'd be showing them what hard work in this company can buy. You should like that, it's like wiping our asses with dollar bills in front of them. I don't see how it's any different than displaying degrees and licenses on the wall and all that other pretentious shit people do. We can be more creative about our snobbery. C'mon, I'll pay."  
  
"The most expensive pizza in the city is $2,000."  
  
"What!? Oh, hell no. Who the hell would pay that much for pizza? I'd rather buy a thousand two dollar pizzas at Sailmender's. One nibble from their pizzas and you'll feel..." I cut myself off when I realized that Val's face was paler than its normal self. I followed her line of vision to a man standing by the door.  
  
This man looked like he could've been a male clothing model for these big chain stores that cater to the upscale gentlemen. He was at least 6'2, had a square chin, a fine jawline, a pompadour haircut, tanned skin, brown eyes, 10% body fat, and dressed like he had an 8-figure net worth and great social skills.  
  
"Hello, Val," the man said.  
  
"Jarl?" She said, slow and dumbstruck.  
  
"It's been a long time. You look better than ever."  
  
My eyes flit between them, confused and for some reason a bit irritated.  
  
Val slightly shook her head as she smiled in disbelief, no words making it out of her mouth for a moment. "Wha... what are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm here to interview for the job," he answered, approaching the desk. He gave her a sorrowful look. "I heard about your husband, I'm sorry for your loss. I wanted to call after I heard the news but I figured you were being swamped by condolences, and I remember you hated that when your father passed. I didn't want to be an inconvenience."  
  
Val gave him a small smile. "It wouldn't have been an inconvenience."  
  
I did not like the longing look this man was giving my unicorn. Not one bit. I loudly cleared my throat. "Um, how do you guys know each other?"  
  
Val suddenly remembered that I was also in the room. "Oh, sorry... uh, Jon this is Jarl Freeman, Jarl, this is Jon Snow. He's my business partner and the president of the company."  
  
"It's nice to meet you." Jarl put his hand forward for a shake.  
  
I fake sneezed into both my hands. "Sorry."  
  
"Bless you."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, Val, you uh didn't actually clarify how you two know each other."  
  
Opening and closing her mouth a few times, Val finally managed, "Jarl and I both went to Stanford. We dated for a year."

_What is life? What is the point of it all?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. More backstory will be provided as the story progresses. And some of the random things will make sense later. Maybe.  
> 2\. I don't know if anything I say about business even makes sense. I just searched this stuff online.  
> 3\. Don't ask me about geography cuz I don't even know...
> 
> Chapter 2 is already up.


	2. Chapter 2

It was as though I had been punched in the stomach. I could feel the churro I had eaten almost six hours ago coming back upwards.

"I consider that we must..." Jarl started, reaching over Val's desk to take one of my marshmallows, which I never offered. "We must understand the accelerated change and the global competitiveness that the world where the liberation of the economies and the free trade lives in and comes to characterize the surroundings of coexistence for the enterprise sector."  
  
_English has left the chat._

_What the hell did this man just say?_  
  
"I completely agree with you, Jarl," said Val.  
  
My eyebrows furrowed for a quick moment before I came to my senses and grabbed my pen to pretend I was writing something down in my notebook.  
  
"I suppose you agree, Mr. Snow?" Jarl asked me after making another statement that I couldn't decode.  
  
I shifted awkwardly in my seat. "Me? Oh yeah, of course, completely. I was just talking to you about that the other day, Val, you remember?"  
  
"And in what way, as the administrative vice president would you commit to improving the quality of our products?" She ignored me and continued.  
  
He took a bite of the marshmallow. "Well, my priority would be to design a strategy that seeks to guarantee, in the long run, the survival, the growth, and the profit-earning capacity of the company, optimizing our competitiveness and assuring the permanent satisfaction of our clients." 

I wrinkled my brow. "Damn. You can really do all that?"

"Of course..." Jarl extended his hand and put the half-eaten marshmallow back in the bowl.  
  
_This motha..._  
  
My frustration meter was inching upward _._  
  
"It requires the active participation of all the personnel under new leadership styles," he continued before I could say something. I swiveled my chair around to the table behind Val's desk where the Kleenex was. After pulling out a tissue I outstretched my hand to grab the half-eaten marshmallow from the bowl, but before I could grab it Jarl snatched the tissue from my grasp. "Thank you, Mr. Snow," he said, wiping his mouth.

_Calm down, Jon. Just calm down._

"This well-applied strategy would respond to the necessity to transform the products, the services, processes, structures, and culture of the company to assure its future."  
  
I roughly pulled out another tissue and this time successfully seized the half-eaten marshmallow and then tossed it in the garbage can beside the desk.  
  
"I share a lot of your ideas, Jarl," Val commented.  
  
"To be excellent in the local sphere no longer is sufficient. In order to survive in the current competitive world it's necessary to be on the global stage," Jarl said, smiling.  
  
_Fuck me._

As much as I hate to admit it, this guy sounded like he actually knew his shit. I thought some of the others did too, but unlike those others, Val didn't have that thank you, next face when the interview ended.

***

I stormed out of Val's office after Jarl had left and she conceded to the lunch recess that I no longer gave a flying fuck about.

_Who needs food when anger is growing in your belly?_

I was opening the door to my office when I glanced over my shoulder and saw Jarl talking to Sansa at her desk. "Do you need something, Jarl?" I asked.  
  
"Oh no, I'm just waiting to have a private word with Val."  
  
The smile I gave him was so forced that it hurt.

_The fire inside of me was now at the five-alarm stage._  
  
I backtracked and paced quickly over to the door that led to the lobby. My eyes swept the room until I spotted the person I was looking for. "Gendry!" I shouted from the doorway.  
  
"What happened?" He asked.  
  
"Come here!"  
  
I turned and swiftly made my way into my office with Gendry trailing after me. "What's going on, man?" He asked once inside.  
  
I sat down in my chair and let out an angry groan before shoving back from the desk. I couldn't stay still so I paced around the room, muttering low curses under my breath.  
  
"Dude, what's wrong?"  
  
"You seen that guy talking to Sansa right now?"  
  
"Yeah he's one of the candidates, right? He was with me in the waiting room, what about him?"  
  
"Turns out the guy is Val's ex from college, can you believe that shit?"  
  
Gendry's eyebrows shot up. "What?" He eased himself in the guest chair. "Tell me more."  
  
I sat back in my chair and rubbed my beard furiously. "His name is Jarl. Jarl! What kind of stupid name is that? Sounds like a Norwegian alpine skier." I shot back to my feet and paced around the room again.  
  
Gendry looked pensive. "Wait, Val is the one who looked through all the applications, right? She didn't tell you her ex-boyfriend was a candidate for the job?"  
  
I groaned in dismay when the realization hit me. "Oh fuck." I facepalmed. "I... I think I chose him as a candidate."  
  
Gendry looked at me with a deadpan stare. "What?"  
  
I exhaled a heavy sigh. "I got salty when I found out she was picking all the candidates so I convinced her to let me select a few."  
  
"Jon, don't tell me you didn't put two and two together? Don't tell me you didn't realize that Val and this guy went to the same college at the same time and could've known each other?"  
  
"Well, I probably would've if-if I had... if I had read the applications more carefully."  
  
"Bruh..." Gendry trailed off. "How did Val react when she saw him?"  
  
"For a minute I felt like Patrick Swayze in Ghost, that's how she reacted."  
  
He shrugged. "She was probably shook. I mean when you haven't seen an ex in a long time you're caught off guard--her chip must've been fried for a second."  
  
"Fuck, it's been like what ten years, and he still has that kind of effect on her? Cuz I'm telling you her shookness would've registered as a nine on the Richter scale. And you should've heard the way this guy sweet talked her."  
  
Gendry's eyebrows rose again. "Word? He was shooting his shot right in front of you?"  
  
"Oh yeah, going on about forward planning, maximizing marketing, understanding the deal dynamics--all this bulljive. Val had to cross her legs to stop it dripping down her thighs. On God, I thought I was gonna have to head out to Target to buy her some knee pads. This guy turned out to have a steel trap mind for business and marketing. If you crack his head open Warren Buffett would fall out."  
  
"Oh, so he's uh... leading the ballot then, huh?"  
  
"Well Val hasn't said much but I know she's stuffing the box." I slammed my fist on the desk. "I can smell the cap. He doesn't fool me, man. He might check all the boxes but his kind don't fool me. I can see right through him like a cellophane sheet. He's the type that's good at convincing people that he's the best at his shit. You know like Kanye is talented in that he's convinced people that he's talented." I closed my eyes momentarily and released a breath. "We still got to interview like eight more people, hopefully one of them comes from the generation that learned business management in pre-school. And even if no one better shows up, I'll be damned if I let that man work in my company. I'll record myself sticking my foot in a mousetrap before that happens!"  
  
When Gendry didn't reply I glanced over at him and saw a man who looked like he had been hit by a truck. Like his knees were cut underneath him. Like Thanos snapped and he was the only one that died. Or didn't die. Which would be worse?  
  
I shook the thought away.

_Why does Gendry look hella depressed?_  
  
_Oh yeah…_

Although frustration still bubbled under my skin and jealousy was still seeping into my thoughts, I searched for words to help cheer up my friend.

"Hey keep your head up man, it ain't the end of the world. So you had a forefinger stinker of an abortion interview, so what? Even if you had come through in the clutch, Val would've come up with some excuse to not give you the job just to spite me."  
  
"No, I have no one to audit but myself. I made a fucking fool of myself. It was like I forgot how to speak english. But that's what I get, you know, that's what I get for dreaming big like a dumbass. How-how could I think that I would go from being a driver to the administrative vice president of the company in a span of six months. Dumb. So fucking dumb."  
  
"Dude, chill, don't kick yourself in the nuts. So you fumbled the bag, so what? At least you weren't too afraid to try. A small pack of wolves might fail to beat a herd of muskox when they're outnumbered two to one, but at least they tried to get the kill."  
  
Gendry looked at me perplexed. "What?"  
  
"I saw it on this animal show. It was called Snow Wolf Family and Me--for some reason I just couldn't help checking it out. But look, you set yourself a tough goal, you set a goal that's too unrealistic RIGHT NOW, and when you do that you set yourself up for disappointment. It's not something to be ashamed of, bro. Don't let this spark a backslide, don't just assume that there’s something wrong with you or that your goal is never possible.  
  
You just gotta keep working your balls off, you gotta keep grinding. Forgot what happened a few hours ago, you write your script right now, from this point forward. You took a step today, okay, a few more just need to be taken to develop your ascent, that's all. I mean look at yourself, man, a few months ago you were Tywin Lannister's driver, and now you're on the same floor as the top executives of this company, working with them shoulder to shoulder. Doesn't that say something? Wasn't that your dream once?"  
  
"Well, yeah," he replied.  
  
"Well, there you go. Don't feel hopeless, your moment will come."  
  
Gendry's sad face coiled into a reluctant smile. "You're goofy as fuck, you know that. But I swear you could inspire someone to run through a fucking brick wall."  
  
I smiled back at him. "My stomach is trying to inspire my feet to go to Applebees right now, you down?"  
  
"Only if you paying. No finance, no romance."  
  
"I got you. I know your broke ass can't cough up two bucks for the bill."  
  
Gendry’s brow creased. "Are you... bro, do you want me to break out the Jon Snow tab?"  
  
My facial expression mirrored his. "The what?"  
  
"The Jon Snow tab. It's an invoice with the sum due for the services I provided for you over the last year. Food, beverages, gas. I have the exact cost for everything down to the cent. You want to see it?"  
  
This boy was bluffing, I didn't doubt it. Gendry can wash his face and comb his hair daily, but he's not the guy behind all the life hacks, I'd bet my life on that…

Well actually teaching people how to do the simplest of tasks in the most complicated way possible does sound pretty Gendry. He would tell you to wrap a balloon on a marker like a condom to increase its lifespan.

_Why am I thinking about this?_

_Oh yeah…_

Gendry’s organizing game is weak. One trip to his apartment would inspire you to clean your whole house. I didn't wear a hazmat suit last time I visited, but that's cause it was in the cleaners.

With that in mind I gave Gendry a long challenging look. But he didn't flinch. He was like stone.

The chuckle I forced out was papery dry. "My God, it is so sad to see you under the hocus pocus of money. It's sad, it's really sad. Being that attached to something indicates the state of your heart. If I were you I would meditate on that. I would approach it tentatively."

_I'm rich and cheap, sue me._

_But dont actually sue me, please, that woud cost me money._

"Have I ever told you about the Zen master who lived in my hood?" I asked Gendry.  
  
"Oh no, only like every other day."  
  
"Toshiaki Springwater was his name. He was my life coach. He was my Rafiki."

"Rafiki?"

"You know, the kooky old monkey from the Lion King. He was Rafiki and I was young prince Simba. Master Springwater was very wise. He knew da wae. He once said..."

My argument died when the doors of my office suddenly opened and I saw who entered. The frustration I still felt was suddenly washed and joy was instantly infused into me. "Speaking of princes..." I moved to stand beside my desk, dropped to one knee, and raised my arms.  
  
A second later my son was in my arms in a warm embrace. "How was your day?"  
  
"It was pretty dope."  
  
I snorted back laughter at his word choice. "Oh yeah, what was the best part about today?"  
  
"When I first saw Willow. When Willow smiled at me in class. When I sat next to Willow at lunch. And when Willow gave me a kiss on the cheek after school," Edrick replied with adoring eyes.  
  
"The apple didn't fall far from the tree," Gendry said with a breathy chuckle.  
  
I grinned. "It's in the blood, you know. We Snows are romantic hams. We love women with a passion."  
  
"And are enthusiastic in their pursuit," Gendry quipped.  
  
Edrick walked over to Gendry. "Wassup, Gendry."  
  
"How you doing, kid?"  
  
The two did their formal greeting, 'The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air' handshake. Clap, "Psshhh."  
  
"You know I love having you here," I said to Edrick. "But I'm gonna be really busy for the rest of the day, so you probably shouldn't stick around."  
  
My son's expression turned glum. "Oh, okay," he replied disappointed.  
  
"But right now I'm on a lunch break. We were about to hit up Applebees, you want to come with us?"  
  
Edrick's sadness faded and a tremendous smile crept across his face. "Yeah!"  
  
"Alright, let's bounce." I put on my seersucker suit jacket and led us out of my office.  
  
"Sansa, we're going to Applebees, wanna come?" Edrick asked, hopeful.  
  
"I just ordered some food. But thanks for asking good sir," Sansa replied, smiling sweetly at him.  
  
"Can't you cancel it?" Edrick argued.  
  
"Pump the brakes, boy," I said. "You eat breakfast and dinner with Sansa almost every day. Chill."  
  
"I didn't eat breakfast with her today."  
  
"That's why I said almost. C'mon, let's go," I said, practically dragging him away.  
  
When we reached the elevators my ugly state of mind returned. Waiting to take the ride down as well were none other than my unicorn and Jarl aka Tiege Hanley's mascot.  
  
"Going down together?" I asked, pointedly.  
  
"Going to eat together. I asked Val to have a meal with me to, you know, catch up. Don't worry, Mr. Snow, I'm not trying to charm the interviewer into giving me the job," Jarl said with a lilting laugh.  
  
_No, you want to charm her into giving you a different kind of job._  
  
"I practically had to beg her to accept my invitation," Jarl added.  
  
I swallowed a groan. "Well, I hope you guys have a sick time," I gritted through my teeth, cutting my eyes at Jarl.  
  
And by sick I mean you get a heinous case of food poisoning to the point that it feels like a monster is living in your stomach, scratching and moving in the inside, and when you go to sleep it starts tickling your asshole.  
  
Although my face felt like it was on fire, I gave no sign of discomfiture but only smiled. "It's good to spend an hour sitting across from a person you once gave your heart to and have nothing more than completely platonic interaction," I added after a short pause. "I mean you're mature adults now, you can be civil... it's-it's-it's just wonderful!"  
  
"I suppose you're going out with Edrick?" Val changed the subject.  
  
"And with me, ma'am," said Gendry.  
  
"Edrick is my associate's son," Val pointed out to Jarl.  
  
"Ooh, it's a pleasure to meet you, Edrick," he said smiling to my son. He eyed him curiously. "How old are you, If you don't mind me asking?"  
  
"I'm 8."  
  
"You know If we had a photo of your father when he was eight years old and we held it up to your face, at first glance I'd probably think it was a picture of you. You're the spitting image of him."  
  
"Yeah, thanks," I responded airily for Edrick.  
  
"And where are you guys going to eat?" Val asked.  
  
"Where are you two going?" I asked.  
  
Val sighed. "Your dad should let you chose, Edrick. As a way to make up for the lost time that he's recently dedicated to his mystery dates instead."  
  
I laughed off her comment and the elevator arrived to take us down. "Please, please," I insisted they go in first.  
  
The three minutes that followed were the longest three minutes of my life. You could cut the tension with nickel plated steel scissors.  
  
Just seeing the pretentious way Jarl carries himself and the way he watched Val with interest.... no, no, no! I was seething inside! But there had to be a catch with this guy, my gut was saying as much. And I was gonna make it my life's mission to find it. I'm gonna close him down like a cheetah on a gazelle. I'm gonna pull his neat clothes off. I'm gonna strip him naked! I'm gonna exposed him!  
  
...  
  
_Thank god I wasn't saying this out loud to anybody..._  
  
***  
  
"Wow, what a piece of beauty. A classic, this is a classic! A 1989 black Jaguar XJS V12 convertible. This is one of the finest examples of an XJS coupe that I've seen in a long time. And it's so well preserved. Who's car is this?" Jarl asked as he inspected the vehicle.  
  
"It's mine. Mine. All mine," I said proudly.  
  
The First Lady: Every President needs one and she is mine. When my term began and I secured the bag, putting an APB on this car was one of the first things I did.  
  
"It's absolutely precious. Congratulations, Jon. You don't mind if I call you Jon, right?"  
  
I opened my mouth to say no but before I could speak, Jarl carried on. "You know a lot of people didn't like this car when it came out because of its predecessor, the E-Type, which Enzo Ferrari called one of the most beautiful designs, if not the most beautiful design, that he had ever seen. But I've always thought this model was underrated. It's a genuine thing of beauty."  
  
_Unbelievable, this fucking guy is a car buff? Can he cook like Jesus too? How is this guy legal?_  
  
I gave Jarl a smile that cut like a knife. "Well, I hope you guys enjoy your meal. Remember that the jury's still out on meat, it may cause heart disease and cancer, we don't know for sure. So even if the meat is really juicy, you should fight your urges, Val. Fight it," I said looking her dead in the eye. "Have a blast! C'mon let's go, Edrick." I  
pulled out my set of keys and unlocked the back seat for Edrick to climb in and then I opened the driver's seat and slid in behind the wheel. After unlocking the passenger's seat for Gendry, I turned the key in the ignition.  
  
The whole time my eyes were locked on Val and Jarl as he led her to his car across the parking lot. It was one of those generic ass silver Lexus.  
  
I tried to let it go but this jealousy was too overwhelming. I shouldn't feel this way, Val didn't deserve it. She can't know that she still has this power over me. The warm memories of the past shouldn't overshadow my happiness in the present!  
  
I was conscious of this and yet I let jealousy rule my actions...

***  
  
"We got problems, Jon," said Gendry. "I think our friends ahead know that we're following them."  
  
"AND? This is a free country, ain't it? I can drive wherever the hell I want. Or can't I?"  
  
"Well yeah, but they're speeding up."  
  
"AND? So what?"  
  
"So wh... bro, this car is an antique. You can't keep with a Lexus. Just make a turn here, please."  
  
"Hey, don't let the age of the First Lady fool you, she won one of the Cannonball Runs. If I drove her in top gear all the time I could show up to work before I left the house. Only your last girlfriend spent your paychecks faster than this baby."  
  
"Jon, just stop, alright, Val is gonna get ticked off."  
  
"Let her get ticked, I'll deny everything. If she doesn't have video or photographic evidence to prove that I followed her in a high-speed chase, then she got no case."  
  
"Dad..."  
  
"Relax, Edrick, I won't go over a hundred."  
  
"A hundred!? Jon, please, this is a thirty-year-old tube, it's way past its prime. It's-it's a sheep in wolves' clothing. You'll trash the engine if you even try to get close to a hundred."  
  
"Pssh...only because my son is here, if not I would smoke that overpriced Camry and laugh uproariously at your foolishness."  
  
"Jon, can't you see how stupid and childish this makes you look with Val?"  
  
"You know what, Gendry, kick rocks. In a second I'm gonna stop the car so you can get out and walk."  
  
"Yes, please! That's exactly what you should do. But no no actually no its better if you don't. Cuz you know what's gonna happen? You're gonna get yourself into trouble and who's the one that always has to save you? My dumbass, huh?"  
  
"Now that's what I want to hear. That's what I want to hear Robin say. See it's moments like these that reveal true friends."

"And true idiots."  
  
**A few minutes later.**  
  
"Careful, dude. Sharp turn! Sharp turn!"  
  
"Bro, chill. You're being really hysterical."  
  
"This is getting fun!" Edrick exclaimed. "It's like a car chase I saw on tv last week."  
  
"You see that, even an 8 year old has more backbone than you."  
  
"Can you go faster? We're losing them!"  
  
"Wait, Edrick. That's what I'm trying to do. Wait, just wait."  
  
Gendry took a few deep breaths. "Careful, man, careful! You're not in a race, goddammit, you're gonna get us killed!"  
  
"Faster, dad, faster!"  
  
"Don't encourage him, kid, please. Take your foot off the gas, Jon. The engine is gonna overheat. This car can't keep up!"  
  
"Can't keep up? Pff, I'm about to show you what the President can do with his First Lady."  
  
"Stop playing. You're gonna blow the engine, you're gonna blow the engine. Stop the car! Oooh shiiiit!"  
  
***  
  
I opened the hood of my car and white smoke came pouring out. A LOT of it. For a few seconds it looked like a power plant on wheels. The smoke was so powerful that I had to back away from the car, coughing.  
  
"Well, are you happy now, Mr. President? You burned out the motor!"  
  
I shook my head at Gendry and smiled bashfully, no words making it out of my mouth. I had no rebuttal to that, and I had a rebuttal for everything. "You old worn-out dinosaur!" I turned to the car and cursed at it instead. "You couldn't even hit 100!?"  
  
"Of course not! When have you seen a rolling coffin going 100 mph?"  
  
"I was hosed! Duped! Sheistered! Flimflammed! That dealer ripped me off! But I'm gonna sue those morally bankrupt swindling bastards, on God."  
  
"Oh stop it, this is all your fault. This is literally the cheapest sports car in the world, and for good reason. You knew it was a lemon and you still bought it."  
  
"It's a grand tourer, not a sports car. That's the problem with you southerners, you talk about things without doing your homework first."  
  
A frown stole across his face. "Don't even try that on me, Jon. I-I can't believe you... please explain to me, how-how could you believe that this motor, this one, look at it, was gonna compete with a Lexus? We're lucky it didn't explode, or else we would've went out in a blaze without glory like Tywin."  
  
I groaned and scratched the back of my neck thoughtfully. "You think this is hard to fix?"  
  
Gendry gave a massive shrug. "I don't know. I drove cars, I never tried to fix them. If the company car ever made a noise I just turned the radio up. Maintenance was not in my job description. But the way I see it, you either take it to a mechanic and bend over, or it's time for a divorce. I recommend the former."  
  
"I don't need to bend over for anybody anymore, and Jon Snow doesn't give up on marriage so easily. I can fix this, let me see..." I stuck my hand in the engine compartment and...  
  
"Ahhh!! Ahh!!" I shrieked. "I burned my hand! I burned my hand! Blow on it, blow!" Gendry blew on my hand and Edrick came over from the sidewalk he was sitting on to do the same.  
  
"It's getting really red, dad."  
  
"It burns! It burns!"  
  
"Water, water. Edrick go see if there's water in the car," Gendry instructed.  
  
"I need a hospital. Take me to a hospital, Gendry, please!"  
  
"I think we passed one like five minutes ago. We can walk there."  
  
"I didn't find any water," Edrick said as he returned. "Dad, are you crying?"  
  
"No, no, I'm not-i'm not crying, I'm just... it-it's uh the smoke. It's stinging my eyes."  
  
Edrick clicked his tongue. "Don't be a crybaby," he said, slapping my burned hand.  
  
"Ahhh!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will be up tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

"Well, for me the search is over," said Val. "I think Jarl is the person we should hire."  
  
"Oh you don't need say nothin', I already know. I knew you made up your mind three hours ago."

She stared at me, confused.

"I saw it in your eyes. I saw it written all over these walls when I walked back in after lunch. I saw it mowed into words on the front lawn of the building. A helicopter flew over and wrote it on the sky in smoke. I saw his name on a plaque, not a nameplate, I saw it on a damn plaque that's affixed to the door of the vacant VP office. Shit, you might as well be holding a big glamor poster of the man, for crying out loud."  
  
"I'll admit, Jarl really won me over. But nothing was etched in stone in my head, Jon. I gave the rest of the candidates a fair assessment," she replied.  
  
"Let me ask you this, did he win you over in this office or did he win you over in whatever ritzy titzy restaurant he took you to?"  
  
Val frowned. "All I did was meet with a friend who I haven't seen for some time to find out what he's been doing."  
  
"Friend? I think the line between friendly and friendlier has been crossed." My brows pinched together. "Or blurred? Stepped over? Stepped on? Burned? No, that's a bridge. Has the bridge been crossed? Whatever the fuck, y'all smashed, okay. Y'all dated. So it's not right to hire him."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Why not?" I echoed. "It's-it's blatant favoritism. There's an established relationship between you two so you’re inclined towards hiring him."  
  
"My decision is based on hard evidence, Jon, not on biases. Jarl not only has the resume, the high business IQ, and the problem-solving skills that the position demands but more importantly, he has the right personality. He's reliable and trustworthy and he knows how to manage people--he knows what to say when to say it, how to say it, and where to say it. Tywin taught me that a smart employee selection method relies on logic and instinct. Jarl passes the test."  
  
"Look, I'll admit I like what he said, but anybody can be good on the first date. They say everything you wanna hear. Believe me, I know this. And-and it's not instinct, you know his personality because you know him. How do you know the other candidates, the ones who also have a good resume, how do you know they're not also Clark Kent and Superman, and not just Clark Kent?"  
  
_Does that make sense? Fuck it._  
  
I continued. "Maybe you put a mental block on these other guys who interviewed, unconsciously. Your history with Jarl is a bias that is clearly influencing your decision."  
  
"But I don't think that's being biased, I think it's being smart. I'm aware of Jarl's weaknesses and strengths, as well as his potential compared to most of the candidates that I just met today and only spoke to for thirty minutes."  
  
"You know what potential I see? I see the potential for work-related problems, that's the potential I see. A good president needs to have the foresight to see... a good captain, better yet, a good captain needs to have the foresight to see an iceberg ahead and put their hand on the wheel to turn the ship. So sorry, but the captain says no to Jarl. That's how I feel and I'd like to have you aboard."  
  
Val pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as if contemplating something. "Jon..." She exhaled. "When Jarl and I broke up we were both working as interns at the same company. We were forced to see each other every day and interact, so I couldn't just pretend that he never existed like you try to do after a breakup. At first, it was extremely awkward and challenging, but the respect we have for each other and the appreciation we have for each other's professional abilities helped make the whole thing work. We figured out how to thrive under those circumstances, and I'm confident the same can happen here."  
  
_Don't give Jon, don't give in!_  
  
I sucked down air. "I'm sorry, Val, but I just think it's a bad idea."  
  
She gave me a long look. "Do you remember what you said before we interviewed Gendry? Do you? Let me remind you, you said you’re completely against not hiring the most qualified candidate, and that an existing relationship should not stand in the way of that."  
  
_Fuck me..._  
  
"And if it's unprofessional and a risk for me and Jarl to work together, shouldn't it be unprofessional and a risk for you and I to work together as well?"  
  
_Fuck me against a cage. Fuck me backwards. Fuck me lopsided. Fuck me until I scream bloody murder!_  
  
_Now what excuse can I make?_  
  
I rubbed my ear anxiously. "Look, Val... I like to take my time when making important business decisions, you know that. Especially for such an important position like this one. So I wanna... I wanna sleep on it."  
  
Val paused and then made her decision. "Fine, Jon, take as much time as you want."  
  
_Yes!_  
  
"But keep this in the forefront of your mind, please--hiring the best talent is one of the most important aspects of any business, and it isn’t easy. The recruiting process can drag on for much longer than one anticipates. Highly skilled and experienced candidates are scarce, and with the current state of the company, I don't know if we can afford to be choosy."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, alright. Let's not act like we should be taking to the skies to gravel for this guy's services."  
  
I looked down at my watch and it was now 7:23 pm.  
  
"Well, I'm gonna head on home now. Goodbye, Val."  
  
"Jon?" she called out as I made for the door. "So are you really not gonna tell me what happened to your hand?"  
  
I looked down at my bandaged hand. "I told you, I got cut saving an old lady from a big ass mugger who looked like he was born downstream from a nuclear plant."

Val's mouth was set in a hard line but her eyes shone with triumph.

_She was loving all this. Does that mean she loves me?_

_Or does she just want to see the world burn?  
_  
I choose the former. Which can only mean that the world's well-being rests squarely on your shoulders, Jon. You have to climb the ladder to danger and tackle the fire…

***  
  
"Jon?"  
  
"What's up, Sansa?" I asked without turning from the sink to face her. "You better not be here to help me with these dishes. If your mom still isn't gonna let me pay rent, I feel like I gotta at least do some chores around here."  
  
"You could just put the dirty plates in the dishwasher."  
  
"Please, that thing just sprays a lot of soap water and hopes the plates will get cleaned. Plus it wastes clean water, which is precious and hard to come by. We shouldn't habituate that machine. You know your aunt Shella collects snow in preparation for a global freshwater crisis. People think she's crazy but in twenty years... she could be our redeemer! By her hands we could rise from the ashes of this world! She could carry us through the gates of Valha, shiny and chrome!"  
  
"Uh... what?  
  
"It's from Mad Max. You know the water warlord guy," I said to her over my shoulder.  
  
"Right... anyway, you don't ever have to worry about me doing dishes. I'll clean the whole house before I clean dishes. It's nice to see you doing it though, a man has never been shot in the back while doing dishes."  
  
I snorted. "In this crazy ass country, I'll bet that there has."  
  
"Are you sure you should be washing dishes when you have a banged up hand?"  
  
"I’m wearing thick gloves. Though I don't even need them. This ain't nothing. This is a big fat nothing to me. When I was a kid I visited the LEGO factory without any shoes. These other dudes out here ain't on my level."  
  
"A part of me is glad it's not anything serious. But another part of me kinda wishes it was."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
She was quiet for a moment. "Edrick told me everything, Jon."  
  
I froze for a beat and then went back to scraping the dishes. "What do you mean?"  
  
"He told me about the car chase."  
_  
Ah, Jesus Christ..._  
  
I really should've known better... Edrick is usually pretty good at keeping secrets, but there's this thing about Sansa's eyes that enable her to peer into my son's soul and hypnotize him into telling her the truth, kinda the same way math teachers used to hypnotize me into falling asleep in class.  
  
I began scraping the plate in my hands more aggressively.  
  
Sansa raised her voice. "It's one thing to put your life in danger, which is stupid in itself, but you also put everyone else that was driving on the same road in danger, and you put Gendry and Edrick's life in danger. You endangered the welfare of a child, Jon, your child. They take children away from their parents for a crime like that. I mean just this morning you were telling me how dangerous it is to drive and be on the phone at the same time, and then you go and risk causing a senseless tragedy a few hours later. All because you were angry that Val had lunch with Jarl."  
  
I finally whirled around to face Sansa and deny her ridiculous accusation, but when I did I had to suck in a breath from shock. I was taken aback by the way Sansa was dressed--she had on a strappy sleeveless tank-top and pajama shorts that showed a lot of skin. It was a surprising sight because Sansa tended to dress more conservatively.  
  
"Goddamn, girl. You looking hotter than Chinese firecrackers. Look at those legs, you got the legs of a swimmer. Tell me when you want the water test."  
  
My comment made Sansa blush redder than a pomegranate. "Jon..." She struggled for words for a second. "Don't change the subject. If you want to be jealous, fine be petty and childish, but leave the rest of the world, especially your son, out of it, please."  
  
I barked out a laugh. "Me jealous? Jealous of that cheeseball? You think I'm jealous of an average jabroni disguised as Sean Connery? Please, you got me trippin'."  
  
She glanced thoughtfully at me. "Jon, I want you to look me in the eye and be a hundred percent honest with me, can you do that?"  
  
"Of course." I leaned over the kitchen counter, putting my face only a few inches from hers, and widened my eyes.  
  
"Are you still interested in Val?" She asked.  
  
....  
  
"Do you still love her?"  
  
....  
  
It was like I was back in my fifth-grade classroom where I would shoot spitballs at the other students and then the teacher would ask me a question I didn't know.  
  
I tried to answer but the only noise I could emit had me sounding like the crawling goth girl from The Grudge. So instead I tittered nervously and spun back around to assertively wash the dishes.  
  
"You were jealous, don't deny it. And I don't... I don't get it. Does it mean things aren't serious with this secret girl you've been going out with? Why don't you want us to know who she is? Or did you just make that all up? Jon, does that woman exist or not?"  
  
I turned back around to face her. "Sansa, of course she exists. And you know what... she's the woman I've been waiting for my whole life."  
  
_Take that! I bet you weren't expecting that revelation. What's up now?_  
  
"Is that really true?" She was finally able to ask after a stunned moment.  
  
_Well no but that's what you get for being so interrogative.  
_  
"What's the point of being honest if you're never gonna believe anything I say anyway? It's really ugly to be treated with such lack of trust from someone who claims to be my friend, from my blue flower," I argued, with great passion. That's the secret. "All because I fibbed a bit in the past and it caused some mess. People never truly forgive someone's mistakes, huh? It's like when this guy in my neighborhood accidentally ran over a dog--everybody lost their shit, they thought it was intentional and wanted to plan a funeral for the dog and him. Overnight he basically became a square in a group of circles. Oh but if you replace that dog with a pig or a duck or a lamb, well then you got a goddamn barbecue. Like 'grill it up'. 'What kind of sauce you got?'” 

I could have kept on going at length, but Sansa was saying my name over and over, and louder and louder, "Jon, Jon, Jon, okay, okay. Let's say I believe you. Then why can't we meet her? Why can't you at least tell us her name?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Yes, why?"  
  
"You have the nerve to ask me why?"  
  
Sansa nodded.  
  
_Son of a two dollar whore! Now what do I say?_  
  
I cleared my throat nervously. "Well, for a simple reason. To protect her from all of y'all."  
  
A puzzled expression pulled at Sansa's brows.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, don't make that face. To protect her from you, from Val, from all the women in my life who want to have me all to themselves and who harass me at every turn."  
  
"Oh, Jon, please. Get over yourself. Don't exaggerate."  
  
I ignored her. "Plus, I uh, I made a pact with her not to tell anybody about our relationship."  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"Jesus, what are you a cop? What's with all these questions?"  
  
"Oh, come on, Jon, just tell me. You know you can tell me anything. Why can't you tell me who she is?"  
  
I looked around the kitchen to see if anybody was lurking and then brought out my ASMR voice. "Because she's someone really famous. A celebrity. A big star!"  
  
Sansa's eyes narrowed slightly, weighing my words. For a second I thought she actually bought it, but then came her notorious sigh and head shake of disappointment. “And you complain because people don't trust you. It's really sad that at your age you still decide to hide behind all these fantasies." She turned and walked out of the kitchen.  
  
_Jesus God, what a distrustful woman..._  
  
***  
  
I stifled a yawn. "Alright, it's time to close our eyes, shut our mouths, and dream dream dream dream."  
  
Edrick sat up in bed. "Hey dad, are you really dating someone famous?"  
  
_How does he ...?_  
  
"Was someone listening to a private conversation in the kitchen?" I asked pointedly.  
  
"Honestly, yes."  
  
I gasped. "Not cool, young man. Not cool. What have I told you about snoopin'?"  
  
"That I can do it when I'm older If I want to. But too much of anything is bad for you. Too much Houdini can mess up my lungs and reduce my memory and learning functions."  
  
_What? What is he...?"_  
  
"I'm not talking about Snoop Dogg, I mean snooping! Eavesdropping, spying, prying, being a nosy smurf, sneaking into someone else's huddle!"  
  
"I'm sorry, I'll try not to do it again. Do you forgive me?"  
  
"Whatever, just... you don't need to do that, okay. You never have to play secret agent to find out things about me. If you want to know something just ask me straight up."  
  
"Okay... so is it true that your dating someone famous or not?"  
_  
Damn this boy is hella bold._

Now what? Do I lie to my son? I already made myself a nominee for the Worst Father of the Year Award earlier today, I would surely be the front runner if I set another bad example right now.

"Look, Edrick I said that because a lot of people are on my case right now. Just intrigue and intrigue, gossip and gossip, it's like a soap opera. That's why I don't want to tell anybody yet the truth about my relationship status. For the simple reason that right now, to be honest, I don't even know my relationship status. You understand?"  
  
Edrick smiled. "Yeah. I don't care if you lie, I just want to make sure you're still free to be with Sansa."  
  
I sighed. "You realize we almost made it a whole day without you mentioning that."  
  
***  
  
"Good morning, everyone! What's goodie, what's goodie? Jennis, hey, how are you? Hello, hello, hel-Gendry!" I shot my hand out and seized my friend by the forearm before he could dash past me, nearly yanking his arm out of the socket. "Thank God, just the man I needed to see. I have to tell you something, come to my office."  
  
"No, no, Jon, I can't right now, I have to get these papers signed."  
  
"Please, Gendry, this can't wait, I need to arrange something with you right now before the DETECTIVES of this company arrive."  
  
"Gods, alright, but make it quick." I hauled him through the lobby and into my office.  
  
"Now what is the master chef cookin'?" He asked.  
  
"Dude, your boy sometimes comes up with the most genius ideas. Genius!"  
  
Gendry was intrigued. "I'm listening."  
  
"Don't walk out, just hear me out. I had two dreams last night, one I wish never happened and another that I wished never ended."  
  
"Hmm, that happened to me before. I woke up really sad."  
  
"Pay attention, in the first dream, it's the proverbial dream, me and Val are on this fly ass little island and she's got on this sexy ass bikini, right, and we're like you know frolicking, I'm chasing her trying to give her a full body examination, you know that thing. But then she stopped in front of this luscious apple tree and decided it was apple time. So we each picked an apple. And it was all good, you know, we were laying in the shade eating sweet apples and I was trying to get rid of her bikini. But after a few minutes I started to feel weird. Turns out that I had eaten poison. And as I withered and died in the ground, Jarl showed up out of nowhere and took Val and passionately fucked her on my corpse."  
  
Gendry visibly bit back a laugh. "Damn..."  
  
"And then there was the second dream... bro, it was weird. It was like... I can't even... I don't know how to explain it. It was kinda like... kinda like the Matrix. I swear I could actually control myself in the dream. And I knew I had nothing to worry about. Like I knew I couldn't die in the dream."  
  
"Your talking about a lucid dream."  
  
"Lucid dream? There's a name for it? So-so this is normal?"  
  
"Uh... not really... maybe? I don't know? I've never really asked anybody about it, and it's never happened to me. Someone I follow on Twitter tweeted about it once and I just read it as I was scrolling up or down. I think it happens like, you know, spontaneously. But I think you can also learn to do it. I think? I don't fucking know. Like I said it's never happened to me and I've never like done research on it."  
  
"So you don't think I should see somebody about this, right?"  
  
"No, I don't think so," Gendry replied. "But tell me more, what happened in the dream? What could you do?"  
  
"It was so dope, dude, I could conjure up any object I liked, go to any place, real or fictional, meet any person real or fictional. And that's how my genius idea was born. Gendry..." I paused and grinned like a fool. "I met a very real person in this dream."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know how they say that beside every great man is a great woman?"  
  
"I think the quote is behind every great man. But beside would probably be more politically correct today. But yeah, I do. Why?"  
  
I laughed devilishly. "Gendry, the person I met was my mystery woman."  
  
"No, you lost me. What are you talking about? There is no mystery woman, she isn't real, you just made that up to make Val jealous."  
  
"I'm gonna exploit the gossip factory that is this office to spread the rumor like wildfire!"  
  
"Jon, you're not answering any of my questions. I still don't understand. I think I'm even more confused, actually."  
  
"Gods, Gendry... today everyone in this company is gonna find out the identity of the woman that Jon Snow has over the moon in love with him."  
  
***  
  
"What? You don't like my idea?"  
  
"Its stupidest idea you've come up with since I met you, and that's saying something!"  
  
"How? Explain it to me?"  
  
"How!? B-b-b-because it's not true! Because you don't even know that woman!"  
  
"You see, you don't get it. Listen, clean the ears, hear what I'm saying. It doesn't matter if I don't know her. The point is to make everyone BELIEVE that I'm seeing her, not for me to actually be SEEN with her."  
  
"Jon, I gotta keep it real with you, your my boy but this thing with Val is really unhealthy, it really is, it-it has to be said. I mean right now she's pegging you as hard as I do to anyone who plays me in 2K. You're completely out of your rabid ass mind. You're putting the four divisions of Tokyo into your sleeve."  
  
"The four... what?"  
  
"You're putting Mount Vesuvius into a pillbox."  
  
"Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?"  
  
"It's not cool to have your questions ignored and to hear confusing shit, is it? What I'm saying is that you'd be complicating your existence if you did this."  
  
I sighed. "Gendry, are you gonna help me, yes or no? And make it quick please time is wearing thin."  
  
"No, no, no, no, no...." He paused and then let out a loud groan. "That's a rhetorical question, you're not really giving me a choice!"  
  
I shrugged. "There's no gun in my hand, Gendry."  
  
"Shut up. Let's just do this."  
  
***  
  
"Gendry, I can't do that," she answered with a laugh. "It could get me in trouble with my boss."  
  
"How? You're only gonna be on the phone for like twenty seconds, and it's not like your gonna use the restaurant's phone. Come on, Becca, every time I come here I give you a good tip. And I've never considered it an obligation, it's been compensation for wonderful service."  
  
"What kinda compensation would you give me if I did this?"  
  
"How much you want?"  
  
"$100."  
  
Gendry's eyes almost bulged out of his sockets. "The fuck?! Get the fuck out of here. I'm not giving you a hundred dollars to make a phone call. If a girl is gonna fuck me like that I better be fucking her. I could get a homeless lady to do this shit for a piece of gum."  
  
"Then why don't you?"  
  
"I will but don't expect me to ever tip you again when I come here."  
  
She snorted. "Typical male, I don't do what you want so you turn into an asshole."  
  
Gendry frowned. "Don't even go there, if anyone is making their sex look bad here it's you. You're basically saying you come with a menu, just like this restaurant. What services do you offer people for two hundred dollars? Five hundred? A thousand? See now I agree with the people that say tipping should be banned. At least I got that out of this crazy plan from Jon."  
  
Becca's eyes lit up. "Jon? He's the eye candy with the beautiful locks, right?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's him."  
  
"And that body, mmm...what a man, what muscles, what oomph! He could step on my face and I would apologize."  
  
"Yes, well I'm sure he'd be flattered to hear that. So are you..."  
  
"And that ass. Oh my god, what a perfect hot booty. You could bounce a quarter off that thang and it would come back fifty cents. I wanna squeeze it like dough and eat it like groceries."  
  
"Damn, girl, drink some water, drink ten liters of it with your thirsty ass. Let's not get off topic, please. Are you gonna help m... are you gonna help Jon or not?"  
  
"For him, anything."  
  
***  
  
"Hello, how can I help you?"  
  
"Hello mam, this is Jon Snow's secretary, Margaery, can I please speak to Mr. Patterson?"  
  
The voice on the other end went dead silent for a moment.  
  
"This is Mr. Patterson."  
  
_CRINGE!_  
  
"Oh, uh... Hi, Mr. Patterson. Um, you, have a meeting scheduled with my boss and his associate Mrs. Lannister for next week, and Mr. Snow wanted me to speak to you directly to ask if... to ask if your allergic to gelatin?"  
  
"Gelatin? Why?"  
  
Margaery took in a deep breath. "It-it's an ingredient in marshmallows, sir."  
  
"Marshmallows? Why does it matter if I'm allergic to marshmallows?"  
  
"Well, it's Mr. Snow's guest snack, he likes to offer it to anyone who visits our wonderful company. But you see there was a little incident with another business partner. It doesn't really matter. It wasn't too seri... My boss just wants to be cautious. So do you know if your allergic to gelatin?"  
  
"I... I've eaten jelly before. I think that has gelatin in it?"  
  
"That's right it does. Um... I think that means we're in the clear. I won't take up any more of your time, sir, thank you. Goodbye, have a nice day." Margaery waited for him to hang up before doing the same.  
  
_Gods... and she thought working for Tywin Lannister stressed her out._  
  
"Margaery!" Jon called her through the phone receiver.  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"Can you come in my office, please?"  
  
"On the way, sir." Margaery stood from her desk and did as much.  
  
She entered the office but didn't see Jon sitting at his desk per usual. Instead, she found him in the far right corner of the room staring curiously at the wall.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Marg, what do you think about painting these walls? I want a woman's opinion?"  
  
"Uh... to be honest, I don't think I'm the right person to ask. I'm pretty terrible at decorating. By the way, sir, I called Pynto about the marshmallows. Good news, not allergic."  
  
Jon turned to her, dumbfounded. "Who's Pynto?"  
  
"That's the name of the company, sir."  
  
"Oh, right, yeah. Good job. Anyway, I wanna set a different mood in here. This is too serious, too bland. I want something more lively, more visually-stunning, you know what I mean? I want a look that's like adventurous yet serene. And a unique color palette, with the colors really standing out. And I want to frame portraits and art that are totally random. You know those look for the hidden meaning type pictures. What do you think, Marg?"  
  
"Um, yeah, sounds cool. But don't you think it would look kinda weird compared to the rest of the floor? I mean this design matches with the lobby and the other offices."  
  
"Good idea, Marg, I should have the whole floor re-decorated."  
  
"No, no, I didn't propose that I was just saying..."  
  
"Get online and find a decorator or designer or whatever they're called that can do everything I just said."  
  
Margaery sighed with exasperation. "Yes, sir."  
  
She was ready to hustle out of the office when the phone on Jon's desk rang. "I'll get that, sir," Margaery said as she scurried over to the desk to answer.  
  
"Golden Lion Food Group, how can I help you?"  
  
"Hi, can I speak to Jon Snow, please?" A woman asked on the other line.  
  
"May I ask who's calling?"  
  
"This is Daenerys Targaryen."  
  
A chill gripped Margaery's spine at the name.  
  
"I'm-im sorry? Who-who-who is this?" She stammered, before finally muddling out.  
  
"Daenerys Targaryen. Is Jon not there?"  
  
"Just a moment, please." She pressed the phone to her chest. "It's for you. She says she's Daenerys Targaryen," Margaery whispered, ill at ease.  
  
"Oh, Daenerys," Jon said in a voice devoid of surprise, as if it was no big deal at all. He walked over and took the phone. "Daenerys, baby, how are you?  
  
"Yeah, sorry I was just about to call you. My phone broke this morning. I stuffed it in my back pocket after I changed and you know my bad memory, I forgot that I put it there. So when I sat down to eat breakfast the force of my butt cracked the screen and now it won't turn on anymore.  
  
"Yeah, well what I can say these buns are pretty strong, but I don't need to tell you that," he said with a chuckle.  
  
"Jon, is that really Daenerys? Daenerys Targaryen, the one everyone knows?" Margaery asked.  
  
"Yeah, dude, now can you go, please. You're excused."  
  
"Jon, you swear it's her?"  
  
He made a 'shooing' motion with his hand. "Be gone."  
  
"I'll buy a new phone after work, don't worry. I know it's hard for you, baby, but we'll only be disconnected for a few hours."  
  
There was no way in hell Margaery was gonna leave that office without getting the full scoop, so she positioned herself in front of the wall and tried to appear like she was… doing something.  
  
"Hey, if anyone should be upset it's me. You slipped up and gave your name to my secretary. That's no bueno. Like I told you, the people in this place are nosier than old church ladies.  
  
"It's alright, I forgive you, I forgive you."  
  
Jon guffawed. "Tonight, baby, tonight, don't be antsy. I'll see you there, alright. Oh, and don't worry I'll bring the rosé. Bye. Oh a kiss? Okay, how 'bout one for each hot spot. Here they come."  
  
Jon kissed the phone like half-a-dozen times and then hung up.  
  
"That girl be wildin I swea... Marg, are you good? What are you doing over there?"  
  
"Oh I was just.... thinking and imagining what you were saying about the decor of the office. You're totally right, sir, it's too plain. It needs some character. I'm gonna get right on it, boss."  
  
Jon smiled. "Good, Margaery, you do that. Thanks."  
  
***  
  
"Marg, you're making me nervous. What's going on?" Val asked.  
  
"Yeah, what do you want to tell us?" asked Sansa.  
  
Margaery stopped pacing the room. "I know who Jon is dating. I found out who the mystery woman is."  
  
Val jumped to her feet and Sansa gasped. "Seriously? How, how did you find out?"  
  
"I was with Jon in his office when she called. I answered the phone. I stayed around to hear everything they said. It's her."  
  
"Who?" Val and Sansa both asked, speaking over the other.  
  
"You wouldn't guess who she is in a million years. Like literally, even if you could live for a million years you would never guess her."  
  
"Why? Do we know her or what?" Sansa asked.  
  
"Yes. In fact, all of Westeros knows her."  
  
"Oh for the love of God, Margaery, tell us who she is!" Val demanded, impatiently.  
  
"It's none other than... Daenerys Targayen!"  
  
Val's jaw hit the floor as she dropped back into her chair and Sansa looked equally thunderstruck.  
  
***  
  
"What happened with Margaery, what she say?"  
  
"She bought it, bro. Hook, line, and sinker. I bet you a mil the gossip queen is in Val's office at this very moment trying to secure the Pulitzer Prize for Office Reporting," I said laughing myself breathless. "I told you man, I told you."  
  
***  
  
Val opened her mouth to say something, but then, she closed it again and shook her head. "Are you-are you sure, Marg?" She was finally able to ask.  
  
"I answered the phone and she told me her name, that's what happened. I was just as shook as you two are right now."  
  
"Daenerys Targaryen is like... she's very... she's kind of pretty isn't she?" asked Sansa.  
  
"Forget looks, the girl is like a billionaire," Margaery said.  
  
"Plus she's the heir of several of the most important companies in the country," Val remembered. "Oh god," she groaned, rubbing her head in frustration.  
  
"She's got like 70 million ig followers and the paparazzi are always hounding her," Margaery informed them. "And the guys they link her with, oh my god, they're the most attractive, the most beautiful, most juiciest, most muah muah muah, guys in the world."  
  
Val rose to her feet. "And now she's with... now she's with..." She turned to Sansa. "With Jon?" They both said in unison.  
  
They both eyed Margaery and then turned back to look at each other. "With Jon Snow?" They said again in unison.  
  
***  
  
I thought after finding and destroying Mother Brain on the planet Zebes, that Metroid: Zero Mission was over, but no, I was attacked and now had to infiltrate the Space Pirate Mother Ship without a power suit. But shit, I didn't mind, Samus Aran's badass self was looking all kinds of fine in that zentai suit and I was hyped for some Metal Gear Samus. But just as I was about to begin my new mission, someone came barging into my office.  
  
I raised my head and nearly dropped my Gameboy when I fully took in the sight that was in front of me. It was Val, and dayum... she looked like a snacc today.  
  
She had on a sexy slim v-neck low cut dress that really highlighted her breasts, turning them into weapons of mass seduction.  
  
_Dear lord..._  
  
_Control yourself, Jon. You can do it. It's just like those YouTube videos that use cleavage in the thumbnail to lure everyone in. It's clickbait. Don't click, don't click!_  
  
I took a deep intake of breath as I shut my GBA SP off and set it aside. "Mrs. Lannister, good morning."  
  
"Hello, Jon."  
  
"How can I help you?"  
  
I was so distracted that I didn't hear Val's answer. It's funny how staring at cleavage makes your ears not able to hear stuff. "I'm sorry, what?"  
  
"I said I need to ask you a question. Is it true that the woman your going out with is Daenerys Targaryen?"  
  
I didn't hesitate long to answer. "Yes. Why?"  
  
"Jon, if this is another one of your lies..."  
  
"Why would it be a lie?"  
  
_My god, I don't understand where all this mistrust towards me comes from?_  
  
"Well, because it's not possible."  
  
I snorted. "Oh no? And why exactly is that?"  
  
"Well, because Daenerys Targaryen is a girl that's young, rich, and very famous."  
  
"And very beautiful, don't forget that."  
  
"Don't exaggerate, she's not THAT attractive as people say," Val said irritably. "She looks good in her strategically placed photos, but in real life she probably doesn't look that good."  
  
My only response was to laugh under my breath.  
  
"Look, the fact of the matter is she's way out of your league, Jon, so out of it that you’re not even playing the same sport, she's out of your universe! A girl like that will never be interested in..."  
  
"In someone like me," I finished for her. "In someone lower class, in someone who's a mixture of white trash and ghetto, right?"  
  
"No, I didn't say that."  
  
"But you're thinking it aren't you?" When she didn't reply I continued. "But see you're forgetting something, your forgetting that I'm now a businessman. I'm a new star in the ruling elite. I own 50 percent of a huge, recognized worldwide company. I got racks now."  
  
"No, that's not what I mean. I'm simply saying that she lives in a different world. A world that neither you nor I nor the majority of mortals live in. Daenerys Targaryen rubs shoulders with high-ranking businessmen, and I mean much higher than us. With singers and actors that have international fame, with politicians, presidents, members of royal families.  
  
"She was born on the catbird seat--people like her don't have to emphasize their own superiority. They know their superior. They don't even question it. Try to understand this, Jon. You're just not her type. Trying to win a girl like her is like trying to buy something expensive when you're broke. Don't get offended, I'm broke, you're broke, we're all broke to people like her."  
  
I chuckled humorously. "You know what's broke? Your mindset. See I don't think like that. That's a poverty mindset. And why don't you explain all those things you just said to her. Because she clearly hasn't gotten the picture."  
  
"Jon.... this is all in your head. This is a dream, isn't it? You know it is."  
  
"I've always dreamt with women that everyone considers out of my league," I replied, staring at her intently. Have you forgotten the passionate nights we spent together? My eyes asked her.  
  
Val blanched slightly, caught off guard. "This dream, this fantasy is the kind that don't come true."  
  
"If that's what you want to believe, so be it. But why would I make this up, can you explain that to me?" I asked with a smile on my face.  
  
"I don't know, for a laugh, to make someone jealous."  
  
My smile grew. "Who am I trying to make jealous?"  
  
"Jon, come on, let's stop playing these stupid games, just-just admit that this a lie. Tell me the truth."  
  
_In your dreams, lady. That is if they're lucid. Ha!_  
  
"Silence is acquiescence, Jon," she said when I didn't reply.  
  
"Like I said, think whatever you want. Now unless you have something else to discuss, I have a lot of work."  
  
"No, don't worry I won't take any more of your valuable time. Keep on dreaming, Mr. Snow. Fantasize about fulfilling all your wishes--love affairs, banquets in your honor, dancing girls, all that," Val said mockingly.  
  
_Jealous much? Sorry Princes Peach but I had to clapback. Out of my league? If anything I'm in a league of my own. Any woman should consider herself lucky to be drafted in my league._  
  
"Oh, by the way," I stopped her from leaving. "Last night I was consulting with the pillow and I made a decision."  
  
_Are you sure you wanna do this, Jon? It can come back to bite you in the ass..._  
  
_Fuck it._  
  
"I agree, I think we should hire Jarl."  
  
_Anyone got a mousetrap?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure when chapter 4 will come out but it will eventually.


End file.
